Chapter 8: Indications for Further Study; Conclusions

The further directions for research in this vein could include
any or all of the following: Examination of the recording locales,
with particular attention to the placement of performers, positioning
of microphones, technical aspects of the sound mixing, and of
the acoustical properties of the sites themselves; investigation
into the professional capabilities and standards of the instrumental
and vocal performers; and the attitudes of the conductors, which
presumably could be derived through interview of those who are
still living, regarding their views of the GMdm within
Berlioz' life-work, their sense of the superstructure and concomitant
tempo variations, and the specific performance options alluded
to earlier. If future scholars choose to follow some of these
paths, an even more rigorous and directed examination of performance
practice approach may yield further understanding into the aesthetic
appreciation of musical performances.

Conclusions

The study of a musical composition in relation to its performance
history and its recording history can be productive, if somewhat
tantalizing. In the case of the Grande Messe des morts,
several broad and intriguing speculations may be made.

We have seen that the conductors of the twenty surveyed performances
did not hew too closely to Berlioz' marked tempos, which might
strike the performing musician as a rather familiar consequence
in the process of transferring music from score to performance.
Why does this happen? The rise of the virtuoso conductor--a movement
in which Berlioz himself played no small part--may have sounded
the signal in the 20th Century, tempered as it was by the more
purist attitudes of Mahler, Weingartner and Toscanini, that the
conductor was to be the overriding personality guiding the performance
of large-scale ensemble concert works. Some conductors may adopt
unusual tempos, or performance options, or repertoire choices,
or affectations of personal dress, as a means of asserting individuality.
Then again, we might take the more optimistic point of view that
the conductor, far from abusing that power for personal aggrandizement,
channels it instead to the service of the composer's stated intentions,
or beyond that, to the needs of the musical composition itself.

Obviously, any conductor who decides to perform the music
of Berlioz in the first place is unlikely to play down the dramatic
effects inherent in those works. yet as it has been observed in
Chapter 7, the most aesthetically pleasing performances of the
GMdm have been those offered by conductors fully cognizant
of the subtlety of Berlioz' vision as well as its grandeur. We
may conclude that, in these cases at least, modifications of Berlioz'
tempos to any significant degree may be seen as the conductor's
way of addressing the needs of the work in performance.

As an example, observe once again the distribution of performance
timings for the opening Requiem et Kyrie. Here, as already
noted, the overwhelming majority of the sampled performances show
timings significantly slower than the MBT. This could be for several
reasons. First, the movement may be thought of as a prelude to
the remainder of the work; indeed, if one considers the function
of the GMdm as Berlioz' planned oratorio on the Day of
Judgment, this opening movement is precisely that, coming as it
does before the five movements set to texts derived from the Sequence.
As such a monument, the conductor may feel that a more sustained
tempo than Berlioz' marked Andante un poco lento, crotchet
= 69, is called for. (In contrast, the other movements marked
Andante un poco lento have different metronomic markings:
the Quid sum miser has crotchet = 76, while the Hostias
and Agnus Dei both have crotchet = 56.) Then too, the very
opening of the text offers a striking contrast between the legato
arpeggiated dropping thirds (heard first in the basses, measures
26-31) and the more staccato falling minor seconds (heard first
in the tenors, measures 28-30). While the texture of a great deal
of the movement is in crotchets and quavers, there are passages
with shorter notes, and perhaps a broader tempo serves to bring
out these contrasts, as well as the occasional dotted rhythms.

Furthermore, there is the consideration of the reverberation
of the performance locale. While it has not been possible to obtain
architectural dimensions or reverberation timings, it may be supposed
that the broader tempos generally found throughout SC and DA are
a function of the lengthy echoes--and, of course, of the sensibilities
of the conductors of those performances. It should also be considered
that the sonic clarity afforded by proper manipulation of the
recording technique, with the advantages of miking, balancing
and mixing, can be used to make clear passages of music which
otherwise might become "lost" in the hall. Thus the
technological considerations are clearly worth a more extended
examination in a further study.

The remaining movements of the GMdm serve to illustrate
the wide variety of performance tempos and options taken in the
work. While it was not possible to ascertain the placement of
the additional brass choirs in the Dies irae in all of
the recordings, nor to determine definitively how these placements
compared with their associated live performances, we have enough
of a sampling to indicate that conductorial and physical requirements
have dictated a variety of approaches. In the concert halls, it
is not uncommon to find the brass choirs placed antiphonally in
the balconies or at other outlying positions around the audience,
as opposed to merely at the four compass points surrounding the
main performing ensemble. Perhaps this separation clarifies the
musical-antiphonal texture of the Tuba mirum, and intensifies
the effect sought by Berlioz; perhaps the composer's indications
reflected the limitations known very well to him of the performers
of his day. If one is willing to second-guess the composer on
so touchy, an issue--surely on a par with decisions to emend wind
parts in Beethoven symphonies to take advantage of improved instruments
and techniques--then these alterations are justified in that they
heighten the aesthetic and emotional impact of the passages. Some
laxity in tempo may be considered here, too, to be accounted for
by the acoustical properties of the performance locale, and of
the recording process where that has been undertaken.

Other practical considerations, perhaps implicit in the above
discussion, would be those of the technical capabilities of the
performers. An amateur orchestra might not be as secure as a professional
one in some of the swifter instrumental passages of the Rex
tremendae, nor might a youthful and inexperienced chorus be
able to sustain tone and correct intonation in the Quaerens
me at a very slow tempo. These should be seen in the light
of performance practice exemplified by physical and artistic standards
available to the conductor, whose choices of tempos, phrasing,
and even musical structure should be shaped accordingly.

If one examines the tempo deviations of the twenty recordings
in groups, it is evident that some of the greatest deviations,
and greatest ranges of tempos, are in the five movements set to
the text of the Sequence, i.e., Dies irae, Quid sum miser,
Rex tremendae, Quaerens me, and Lacrimosa:
indeed, as a group the timings of these last two movements average
slightly faster than the MBT. Yet in the Offertoire, in
which the visions of the Day of Judgment are past and the chorus
sings its prayers from Purgatory, virtually all recordings are
more sustained than Berlioz' markings. If the conductors of these
recordings sense Berlioz' intention of an oratorio on the Day
of Judgment, then certainly their relaxation at this point in
the work is a very

strong indication of this kinship with the composer's design.
Furthermore, the Offertoire is designed for a more relaxed
tempo, so that the natural inclination of a conductor might be
to intensify the contrast by playing it at a more relaxed speed.
Lastly, there might also be the purely practical and aesthetic
considerations of performer ability; if a conductor has a first-rate
orchestra, he may wish to draw this movement out in order to demonstrate
the singing quality of his players, since it is the instruments
which "carry" this portion of the GMdm, and the
chorus which is chiefly accompanimental.

With the mysterious Hostias, the "drama"
lies more in the nature of the instrumental and vocal sonorities
than in the syllabic setting, and the recordings demonstrate a
relatively less varied distribution shape. The Sanctus
shows a marked shift into the quicker tempos, and it has already
been suggested that the ability of the tenor soloist to sustain
his floated high tones in each of his solo passages is a definite
influence here. Here the choice of the type of tenor voice is
another artistic decision for the conductor to consider. A wide
variety of voices, from the burly and heroic to the light and
almost countertenorish, have carried this movement successfully,
but due attention should be given to the choice in the context
of the superstructure of the entire performance. An heroic voice
might best convey the joy of the text, while a voix mixte
would be better at communicating rapture. The maverick performance
by an ensemble of tenors is the hastiest of all, and the quality
of the voices heard demonstrates the inadvisability of that particular
option. Berlioz surely intended the movement as a personal prayer,
and his option is one to be taken only in exigency, and cannot
be recommended.

The concluding Agnus Dei demonstrates once again some
broadening of tempos from many of the conductors. Where the opening
Requiem et Kyrie may be taken more broadly than the MBT
because it is a monumental prelude to the Judgment vision, the
Agnus Dei may serve as a devotional postlude; indeed, here
Berlioz uses much of the same music as in the Requiem et Kyrie
(after an opening section recalling the Hostias), and it
is significant that these two cornerstone movements are the only
ones in "perfect" 3/4 time. The patterns of distribution
are not identical, but it is significant that some of the conductors
who took the Requiem et Kyrie the slowest do similarly
with the Agnus Dei, just as the conductors who take the
first section most rapidly likewise take faster tempos with the
last.

This study has concentrated primarily on observable aspects
of performances, and no attempt has been made to correlate personal
characteristics of the nineteen conductors of the recordings.
However, the repertorial choices of some of these conductors have
been evident, and there are some whose command of Berlioz' music
reaches out to others of his principal works. Certainly Beecham
and Davis (to name but two of the most eminent Berliozians) appear
to have a grasp of the consistency-within-the-contrasts of this
remarkable work, where nonspecialists such as the more mystic
Scherchen and the phlegmatic Chekijian make of it rather a mysterious
devotional rite and a dramatic choral tableau respectively. Full
documentation is not available, but many of the nineteen conductors
surveyed here are known not to be Roman Catholic; hence their
conviction toward this work, at least to the point of studying
and performing it, is ecumenical, in sympathy with Berlioz the
man and artist, rather than as a specific religious ritual, Certainly
Berlioz was more concerned with the feeling of the text and its
dramatic impact than with the ritual, or he would not have adapted
the text as he did to suit his dramatic purposes. The very opening
of Berlioz' Memoirs permits us a view of his feelings:

Needless to say, I was brought up in the Catholic and Apostolic
Church of Rome. This charming religion (so attractive since it
gave up burning people) was for seven whole years the joy of my
life, and although we have long since fallen out, I have always
kept mast tender memories of it.1

For Berlioz, the Grande Messe des morts represents
a personal reflection of a nonconformist, but deeply-felt faith.
We are fortunate that the performers of his music display such
an affinity for it.